Friend Or Foe?
by Starnova1122
Summary: The Ghost crew are near breaking point. People are dying, Echo Base is gone, and on top of it all, the loss of one of their own. But now a masked vigilante has appeared on Lothal. A masked vigilante who might just be able to fill the hole left behind by the youngest rebel, and maybe, just maybe, bring the Rebellion back to where it was. Question is: is he friend, or foe?


**Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or Star Wars Rebels, nor any characters, place names, or content that appears in this story. This story is a fanfiction and does not necessarily comply with the actual Star Wars timeline. Rated T for violence.**

 _Naboo had always seemed a quiet place. The perfect location for a holiday. It was the place legendary diplomat Padme Amidala was born, and later married, and its sprawling grasslands topped with perfect mountain ranges made it the perfect holiday spot, the poster planet for romantic locations._

 _So for the life of him, Kanan couldn't think of a single reason why some twisted Imperial officer had decided to build a prison here._

 _The dewy grass was flattened underfoot by four pairs of sprinting boots. Just behind them, the prison was in flames, barred windows smashed outwards by the rioting figures within. Or, to put a more exact word to it, rioting THINGS within. Whatever Sabine had seen in all her years of Imperial service, it was nothing compared to the surprise she got when she cracked open the cell doors._

 _"Intel must have been faulty," Ezra puffed, still trying to keep up with the group. "Someone letting slip that Imperials had a prison here, but forgetting about the fact that he only things in there were a bunch of frieked-up Rathtars!"_

 _Further response was unnecessary, as from the courtyard, a Stormtrooper body was thrown so far up into the air, it narrowly avoided hitting Zeb, despite the fact that they were all several clicks out from the prison._

 _Kanan pointed ahead of him. Just invisible in the night sky, was the large mechanical hull of the Ghost. The boarding ramp was down, and Kanan was relieved to see Hera standing there, shouting to them all to get on board._

 _ **X**_

 _Up in one of the prison towers, a lone sniper considered his options. Concluding that he was safe for the time being, he drew his rifle. Aiming down sights, he took two potshots at one of the Rathtars, and was relieved to see it curl up on its side, dead._

 _He then turned his attention to the fleeing Rebel group that had caused the outbreak. He had only enough charge for one more shot, so he intended to make it count. Shutting his other eye, he aimed first at the large hairless purple Wookie, before passing in favour of a smaller Mandalorian, before deciding that she didn't fit the description. His sights lingered on the Correllian leading the group, before they finally latched onto the young boy at the back of the group._

 _He knew he would have to make a choice soon, as they would soon be on their ship. But it was almost impossible to determine the target from the little description he had…_

 _Deciding he had wasted enough time, he finally picked out his target. He zoomed his sights in, headed the target, held his breath and…_

 _ **X**_

 _Kanan reached the boarding ramp first, and leaped onto it. Hera immediately grabbed Sabine by the hand, while Kanan reached out to grab Zeb's and Ezra's. The ships VTOL engines were fast firing up, and Kanan found himself yelling to them to get on board, it was chaos…_

 _A bullet._

 _A loud BANG._

 _A flash of light._

 _Someone screaming…_

 _And Kanan was pushed back from the boarding ramp, missing Zeb's outstretched hand, so that the Lasat would have fallen if he had not steadied himself. Kanan felt something wet and sticky dribbling down his hands, but there was no time to worry about that right now. He reached out his hand towards his padawan._

 _"Ezra! Get on board, there isn't much time!"_

 _Ezra swayed in place, nothing but blank shock evident on his face. Kanan was utterly confused by now, reaching out with one hand, he turned to the others._

 _"Don't just stand there,_ _help me!" Kanan roared to his crew, not understanding the look of tragedy and fear they had in their eyes._

 _"HELP ME!"_

 _"Kanan…" Hera whispered, before motioning down to Kanan's hands._

 _They were covered in blood._

 _ **X**_

 _For the space of a heartbeat, time stood still. Nothing moved, nothing spoke, as Kanan, ever so slowly turned his head to look at Ezra._

 _"Ezra?"_

 _His look travelled over Ezra's face, where the light was already beginning to dim from his eyes._

 _"EZRA?"_

 _His eyes travelled further down, until they came to rest on the dark red stain, now spreading through Ezra's jumpsuit._

 _"EZRA!"_

 _The ship was beginning to lift in earnest now, as Kanan made several unsuccessful attempts to grab his padawan._

 _"NO! EZRAAAAAA!"_

 _Kanan could see, out of the corner of his eyes, Zeb reaching down to, trying to grab Ezra, as his legs began to buckle._

 _Kanan got to his feet, and was about to leap out when Sabine grabbed him._

 _"LET ME GO!" He roared at her, fighting to break free._

 _"Kanan…"_

 _"LET ME GO! LET ME GET HIM! I NEED TO SAVE HIM!"_

 _"Please Kanan," Sabine pleaded, her eyes filling with tears. "You can't help him, please, we have to go, he's go-"_

 _"HE IS NOT GONE!" Roared Kanan, but he was now crying as much as Sabine. However, there was nothing he could do. The cargo door was fast closing. Kanan finally threw Sabine off him, but by the time he reached the door, it was too late. The last he saw of his padawan, was the boy's pale face, staring up to him as if to say, 'goodbye, old friend', and the body, finally giving in, falling over the cliff, down towards the deep, dark rocks, and to the river below._

 **X**

"AAAAAARRRGHHH!"

Kanan's eyes shot open as he sat bolt upright in bed, his body drenched in sweat. His eyes were wet, but not, he saw, from the lateness of the hour. He sat on the edge of his bed, tears pouring freely down his face, each one a gift to the padawan that had lost his life.

A few minutes later, or perhaps half an hour, or maybe even no time at all, the door to his room slid open. There stood Hera, two cups of hot chocolate in her hands, with a sympathetic and slightly sad smile. Without a word, she walked in, handing Kanan one of the mugs, before sitting down next to him.

Minutes passed in silence. Before Hera finally spoke up.

"That one again, huh?"

Kanan, not trusting his voice at the moment, just nodded, until he found his voice back.

"Why me?" He moaned, not understanding why no one else in the crew suffered the same problem.

"Probably because you, of all people, knew him best," Hera replied wisely. "I still have nightmares about it sometimes. I cry about him a lot too. Zeb really would be feeling it too. I know he doesn't show it, but he looked up to Ezra like a brother. And Sabine, well, you know what she's like. She acts all stoic, but inside she's dying, just like the rest of us."

Kanan took her wise words to heart, beginning to understand.

"But you, Kanan, you were his mentor, his master, and, a lot of the time, the closest thing to a father figure he ever had. You feel guilty about what happened, and that guilt manifests itself in the form of…"

"That same _bloody_ nightmare I've been having for the past eight years," he said, his voice full of sadness and self-loathing.

Hera desperately tried to think of something sympathetic to say. Unfortunately, she came up with nothing she had never said before, and so just put her arm around him. Kanan appreciated such a simple gesture. It gave him hope to think that there was still love and peace in the galaxy, despite how much was taken from him lately.

Not just Ezra, either. Just two years after the Naboo mission, Visago was gunned down in an alley, and Commander Sato was assassinated during a freedom protest. Worst of all, the bodies of Ezra's parents were discovered, victims of an Imperial firing squad. News of more Jedi than ever being found and killed, along with the destruction of Echo Base and the incapacitation of the rogue smuggler Han Solo, did nothing to uphold the Rebel crew's spirits. The team were at breaking point, both physically and mentally. The loss of one of their own, and one so young at that, had struck them like a knife in their side.

If something didn't happen soon, they would break totally. Kanan himself had almost no fight left in him. Their was only one thing that drove him anymore. Finding the sniper that had cost him the loss of his apprentice. The man had remained suspiciously elusive, not even appearing on Imperial crew rosters anywhere that he could find. Although, it could certainly be for lack of trying. However, one thing was for certain. If Kanan ever did find that man, he would be incredibly lucky if all he did was kill him.

A while later, Hera left the room. Carrying the two empty mugs, she made her way in the direction of the kitchen. She hated going that way, as every time she did, she had to pass…

There it was. Dark in the shadows, the door to Ezra's room. Her heart gave a huge tug every time she saw it. His lightsaber hung on a nail in the door, just above a bronze plaque, carved into it,

 ** _IN MEMORIAM_**


End file.
